France
Our first and last port of call. On arrival we headed for Malo-les-Bains, the sight of the Dunkirk evacuation of the Second World War. The reason? Because the Elster's late Grandfather had often told her tales of his own escape from these beaches during the afore mentioned race to escape the on rushing Nazis. There was only one problem. He was never there. The Scally Wag had made it all up, as Elster discovered when investigating his army record. C'est la vie, as the locals would say. She also upset a loo attendant by taking more than three sheets of bog roll. The French are an odd lot on occasion. Our overnight stay in Arras, on the way back was much more fun. A nice evening dinner on the square, followed by a walk round the local fair, followed by a few beers in a French Irish bar. Next day we stopped at Vimy Ridge, site of the Canadian War Memorial, where they have left the terrain just as it was in 1917. A very moving place. After that it was back to reality, via the Euro Tunnel.Belgium
On to the Belgian Beer festival, via Ypres, to pay my respects to my Great grandfathers, who were killed in action during the fighting of 1917. Both the Menin gate, and the grave yards are emotional places. Still, we were after fun and it was on to the Belgian capital. I had booked us in too a swish hotel, L'Amigo, just off the Grand Place. It was well swanky, valet parking (the guy parking our beat up old Zafira did it without any sign of disdain) but it was the Bell hop whom impressed the most. He even managed to tell us that they offered room service and breakfast in bed, in a most suggestive way. I do think I over tipped him with a €10 note however. I have all ready posted what happened the rest of the day/evening (apart from the meat balls I scarfed down at dinner, more of which in a later posting) and the Waffles the next morning were sublime. By this time I had also acquired plenty of beers for the beer tasting session mentioned above, and I was still to get more, as we headed south to Bastogne, the scene of the fiercest fighting during the Battle of the Bulge. A nice little town, with a supermarket, at which I stocked up on more beer. From here it was into .....Luxembourg
Even if it was only briefly, in a "Just to say I have been there" kind of way, although Crespo did tell me they had cheap petrol. He was right. We headed into the town of Wiltz. Which was dead, even for a Sunday afternoon. I saw one person, and he looked half a sleep. Where the chuff was everyone? At a shopping mall on the outskirts of town, was where. It had an H&M, which made the Elster happy. It also had a bar, Which sold pints of Luxembourger beer. For €2.80. This made me extremely happy. Till I realised I had an hours drive ahead of me, and was rationed to a single brewski. Still, it had a supermarket, so I got some more beers. If the rest of the Grand Duchy is a cheap as it was round Wiltz, I will be proposing a Bender in the not too distant future..So that's my late summer jaunt round FraBelLux. If you care to see what we got up to, follow this link. If not, I don't blame you. The Elster must have some Japanese blood in her, as she gets a bit snap happy when in possession of a camera.
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